BRITTANY
Morning light drifts through the orange curtains of the motel room. Jason slept the entire night without moving a muscle. It almost as if he’s paralyzed.
I have no idea how seeing what we both saw affected him so differently than it did me.
I held him all night and still am holding him as he makes little snoring noises. Maybe he’ll wake up and be fine this morning. He has to be fine. He’s a very strong man. This makes no sense to me.
“Let me go,” he growls at me as his body tenses and he wakes up very quickly.
“Okay,” I say as I let him go. “How did you sleep, pumpkin?”
He rolls away from me and off the bed without answering me.
Pulling the blanket over my head, I fight not to cry. I have no idea how to handle this.
The water in the bathroom starts up and I think he might be taking a bath. Maybe that will help clear his head.
The whiskey bottle is on the floor, so I get up to see how much of it he drank. It’s half empty and I take it and put it behind the television, out of sight.
The sound of the water running has me needing to pee really badly, so I go into the bathroom and find the shower curtain pulled shut. “Are you okay, baby?”
He grunts, so I know he’s alive, anyway. After I use the restroom, I go to my bag and get the toothpaste and toothbrushes. Going back inside, I say, “I’m putting your toothbrush on the sink. What would you like to go get for breakfast?”
“I’m not hungry,” he says with a gruff tone I’ve never heard before.
“Well, you have to eat. Isn’t that what you always tell me, baby?” I ease the curtain back a hair and find him lying in the clear water. “That’s a jet tub. You want to me turn on the jets for you?”
“No. Leave me alone. Bring me the bottle.” He doesn’t bother to look at me.
“Oh, you drank the whole thing yesterday. It’ll be noon before the liquor stores open,” I tell him, and watch his eyes cut to me.
They go very narrow as he hisses, “Then get me some goddamned beer then. Fuck, are you completely useless?”
My body tenses up. “Jason, you can’t talk to me like that.”
His lips form a tight line. “You have no idea what’s going on inside of me right now. I can’t explain it. I just need alcohol to quiet it or I’m going to run.”
“To where?” I ask as my heart pounds in my chest.
“Anywhere, as long as it’s away from you.” He closes his eyes and I pull the shower curtain back into place and leave the bathroom as tears fill my eyes.
I didn’t do a thing wrong. How come he wants away from me?
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I cry but do it very quietly. I can’t let him see me being weak. Whatever this is, he really needs me to be strong or I’ll lose him.
Putting on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, I put a pair of sandals on and grab my purse and the keys and leave the motel room to get him some beer. I don’t think it’s the right thing to do at all, but I have no idea what I should do for him.
Getting into the car, I get a terrible feeling about leaving him alone in the bathtub. I get right back out and go back into the motel room. Back into the bathroom I go and say, “If you want beer, you have to come with me. I’m not leaving you here alone, Jason.”
“Just go. I don’t want to go anywhere. God only knows what might happen out there. I can’t take anything right now. Just go.”
I pull the curtain back and see his eyes are red. “Have you been crying?”
“Don’t, Brittany.” He closes his eyes. “Just go.”
I have no idea if this is the right way to handle things or not, but I just go with my gut. “Get the fuck out of the tub and get dressed. I’m not leaving you here. Hurry up. I’m hungry! Fuck, Jason!”
I slam out of the bathroom and pull something for him to wear out of the suitcase. Remarkably, I hear the water draining from the bathtub. At least he’s getting out of the tub.
Coming out with a towel wrapped around his waist, he’s wearing a frown and muttering to himself, “Why can’t she just leave me alone?”
Pointing to the bed, I say, “Put those on. And I’m not leaving you alone because I fucking love your ass.”
He huffs and puts on his clothes, never giving me a second look. I wait patiently by the door until he’s done. Then he moves toward the door. “I’m driving,” he says as he holds his hand out for the keys.
“The fuck you are,” I let him know, and go out the door in front of him and straight to the driver’s side.
He looks as if he might try to rush me for the keys, but he changes his mind and gets in on the passenger side. “Look, you need to leave me alone for a while, a week or so.”
With a laugh, I say, “I’m not doing that. As a matter of fact, I’m not taking you to get any beer or anything like that either.”
I pull out of the parking lot as he looks at me with a glare. I’ve seldom seen him look at me that way and it’s more than a bit unnerving. “You damn well better,” he growls at me.
“You damn well better shut up,” I say as I head toward the other side of the small town. I looked on the Internet and found the nearest hospital. “Jason, you may have a slight imbalance in your system. Your mother told me about you changing when your grandfather died.”
He slams his fist on the dashboard. “You called my mother? Why the fuck would you do that?”
“Only because I love you and I want to help you. Has there been anything else that made you so depressed and despondent?”
He sits still for a while, looking out the window. The morning is gorgeous. The sunshine is sparkling off the dewy grass and trees. It’s like the air is glistening and the smell is fresh. I can’t really see how anyone could be grouchy, angry, or depressed in these kinds of surroundings.
“When you left. When I hurt you. I went dark then, too.”
“How come your mother didn’t tell me about that time?” I ask as I pull onto the street that is supposed to lead me to the hospital.
“She didn’t know. I left town. I left town for a year.” His finger taps his leg and he looks at me. “I just need alcohol and time. Some weed wouldn’t hurt either.”
“Well, I’m not letting you self-medicate, sweetheart.”
His eyes narrow at me. “I don’t need you to let me do anything. I don’t need you at all.”
The urge to pull over and boot his ass out is hard to overcome, but I manage. There is something a little wrong with him and he needs help.
I think about how an animal is hurt and fights you like crazy when you try to help it. It has no idea what you’re doing. No idea you only mean to help it.
Jason has no idea I only mean to help him a much better way than drinking and getting high will. That way is the wrong way, in my opinion. Since I’m the only one in this man’s corner right now, it will be my way.
He looks like he might try to bolt as I turn into the hospital and drive up to the emergency department. “No, Brittany. I’m not going in there.”
“Yes, you are. If they don’t think they can help you, then we’ll go your route. But you’re going to give medical professionals a chance to see if they can help you.” I stop the car and reach for his hand. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“What if they put me in a nuthouse?” he asks with a little fear in his expression.
I’m actually glad to see an emotion on his face. It’s been void of any unless it’s been anger. Maybe the darkness, as he’s calling it, is beginning to see that I’m stronger than it will ever be.
I’m not about to lose this man to anything, another woman, or some mental problems.
“Come on, baby. This won’t hurt a bit. I’ll be right by your side the entire time. I’m not going to let anything hurt you.”
He nods and we get out of the car. I notice him look toward an open field on the far side of the small hospital. He’s most likely contemplating running. He looks back at me as I take his hand and lead him through the emergency room doors that slide open for us.
My fingers are crossed and my hopes are high.